So the day length is staggering as we approach the solstice. I sleep before the light leaves the sky and awaken to a foggy brightness every morning at five. The exhaustion from constant work erodes my free time into reading, eating, talking, and sleeping. I can't muster the energy to get on the lovely icelandics in the pasture down below, to hike the trails so close, or to bike along the scenic roads.This same fatigue applies to writing. I know you want a report on how much reemay we pulled out of the fields today (four rolls, in fact, because of the warm weather and diminished threat of flea beetles) and that we have some lovely kohlrabi and radishes and baby turnips nearly ready to be eaten. But I can't provide all of that right now. You will have to wait until my daily stamina increases next week.